Unexpected
by dragonprincess1988
Summary: Tim is stuck undercover. Unfortunately, for him that's the only part of his night that he's actually ready for.


It's bad enough that Tim is stuck undercover…especially this cover, because this cover doesn't carry enough weapons for his liking; but that doesn't explain why the bar has to smell like stale cigarette smoke and body fluids. The bar fight, which is about two seconds away from breaking out--most likely due to the smell, at least that's Tim's opinion--is looking to be an ugly one, especially for the girl that Tim is pretending to be. The black stiletto heels can and will be used as a weapon when the room finally does erupt, but the question is if Tim can move away from his target slowly enough to make it look like Sandy doesn't move to kick people in the face all that often, and yet fast enough that it won't be necessary to use a projectile first. This wouldn't be a problem if Sandy carried more weapons, but Sandy isn't that type of girl.

When the inevitable bar fight--which is more of a gang fight taking place in a bar--does break out. Tim decides that the best course of action, in order to keep Sandy looking like a girl who doesn't actually know fourteen different ways to take a guy out from where Tim is sitting, is to pick up his target's beer bottle, throw it at the guy--who is getting dangerously close to gutting some other guy--and then flip the table, making it look like Sandy just clumsily knocked it over, as a bottle and some other things hit against it. Tim wants a weapon--a lot of weapons right now--but other than the shoes, and a few other things that he has to wait for a good opportunity to use, all Tim's got is a 22 ounce pop bottle that rolled next to him.

If he wasn't in the middle of trying to track where his target got off to, Tim would wonder exactly where this bottle came from, because he's pretty sure that no one was drinking anything that wasn't some variety of hard…well, no one except him anyway. Tim isn't even lucky enough for it to be a glass bottle, but he picks it up anyway. Tim knows that he can at least use it and some of the things in Sandy's black satin handbag to make an effective smokescreen, but not right now, because right now, his target is getting lost in the midst of drunken gang members.

Tim gets close to the guy again. Sandy is actually supposed to be scared, and she shouldn't know what to do, so Tim thinks about what his face looked like the first time that he met Superman. Normally he wouldn't need the extra help with his facial expressions, but he's just not feeling it tonight. It seems to work, because Chazz (with two Zs) grabs Sandy's arm and drags her over to a corner. "Chill, Babe." Chazz's hand isn't nearly as steady as he wants it to be. "Drunken idiots…nothin' ta worry about."

Tim wants to roll his eyes, because while they may be drunken idiot, they are also drunken idiots with far more weapons than he's currently carrying, thanks to Chazz's bodyguard. Tim didn't even bother bringing something that would be suspicions for Sandy to be carrying, because he knew that the bodyguard's pat down would be thorough enough, but that didn't mean that Tim didn't have some things…like the knives in his shoes that he can pull once Chazz has been dealt with. The fake sapphire blue nails are something else that he can use, but only once he gets close enough, and Tim really doesn't see a reason to get that close to anyone in this bar.

Tim remembers, in enough time to make it look natural, that Sandy is supposed to flinch when a bullet hits the wall pretty damn close to where they're huddled. Chazz is a coward and runs for the door the moment that the plaster goes flying, which works for Tim, because he no longer needs to worry about his cover or making sure that Chazz doesn't get shot before Tim can get all of the information that he needs out of him.

Tim pulls out that pop bottle from earlier, fills it with enough of the stuff in Sandy's handbag to cast the room in a fairly dense cloud of smoke, he pulls the knives from his shoes, and then gets to work. It doesn't take long for Tim to get everyone down, especially considering how well they were all taking out each other. One anonymous call to the cops, via one of the handy disposable cell phones that any and pretty much all of the gang members seem to be using lately, and Sandy slips out the back door before any of them can even dream of being conscious again.

Sandy is in an alley two blocks away when she suddenly feels someone tackle her from behind. Tim is about to knife the guy when he realizes that he knows that laugh anywhere. He gets out of the halfhearted pin and spins around to glare at Nightwing. "You know, a simple hi will do it."

Nightwing laughs again, and Tim kind of wants to punch him, just because he knows that Dick is laughing at him more than with him. After all, Tim should have known that Nightwing was following him before the tackle, even if Tim was distracted by deciding if he should even bother trying to track down Chazz tonight or just wait for tomorrow. It's not like Chazz was going to be doing anything except having a minor mental breakdown about the close call that wasn't. "I just thought that you'd like to know that your target has moved to another motel farther from here than his last one. I've already bugged his room for you."

Tim hums to himself as he straightens his blue ribbon necklace, which hides his Adam's apple well, but is, somehow, even more constrictive than his Robin suit's collar ever was. "So, I take it that it was a slow night for you if you had time to check up on my case."

Nightwing gives him a shrug. "I didn't actually know that Sandy was going to be in this area, but Chazz is a hard guy to miss."

Tim wants to hum again, but just folds his arms over his chest. He really wishes that he was in his suit, even if it is just because Tim's missing the cape a little too much right now. "He does seem to have a thing for those ugly yellow plaid shirts."

"Yeah, and that hook shaped scar on his face doesn't help matters."

Tim nods once. "I guess I should thank you for following him."

Nightwing shrugs again. "Eh, it's not like you wouldn't have tracked him down yourself."

Tim stares at him for a moment. "Well, while that's accurate you did actually save me some time, so thanks."

Tim turns to walk out of the alley when suddenly Nightwing's hand is wrapped around his bicep. "Tim." Tim spins around and raises an eyebrow at him…very pointedly. "Right, sorry, Sandy."

Tim covers his mouth with one hand and giggles a little. "Oh, that's quite alright." Tim knows that his voice is a little flat for Sandy's right now, but given how badly he just wants to end this conversation…hell, end this night, go home, and get out of these heels, he thinks that it's okay that his voice is slipping a little.

"It's just…we haven't actually talked since B came back."

Tim isn't sure what expression is on his face after that, because that was certainly something he wasn't actually expecting tonight…or at least not right here. He wants to rub his temples, sigh a little, and then just walk away, but he knows that won't work…mainly because it'd be the third time this week. "We'll talk later."

Nightwing laughs again, but this time there's no humor in it. "And when will later be? Because you always say later and later never seems to happen."

Tim's glaring, and he knows that he's glaring, but he can't stop himself from glaring, and he's got his arms crossed over his chest again. "How about after I'm out of this damn dress and these stupid heals? How about when we're not in a damn alley?" Tim's also growling and he can't stop that anymore than he can stop the glaring right now.

The look Nightwing gives him would actually be funny if Tim wasn't so angry right now. He looks like this is the first time that he's noticed Tim's cobalt blue short strapless cocktail dress, but Tim is more than sure that the look that he's getting from Nightwing right now is more because Dick just realized that he hasn't actually mocked Tim for it yet. "Man, I think I just realized how much make-up you have to be wearing right now."

Tim glares a little bit more for that, because…well, he is wearing an impressive amount of make-up and it's damn uncomfortable. "Yeah, and I want a shower like you wouldn't believe, so, later?"

Tim is reasonably sure that Dick knows just how uncomfortable the make-up covering all of his scars really is at this point, so he really is kind of expecting to be let go here. "Oh, come on, this can't be any worse than that time that you were covered from head to toe in orange marmalade."

It's pretty safe to say that Tim was thrown by that memory, but it's not like he doesn't have enough practice dealing with Dick and his juvenile behavior. "Yeah, thanks for that by the way. Do you have any idea how long that took to get that out of my hair?"

Nightwing smiles at him evilly, like he's thinking about something just as awful. "About as long as it took me to get the melted jelly beans out of mine."

Tim can't help himself. He has to smile at the mention of that, because it had actually taken far more effort than he thought it would to melt the jelly beans, keep them from congealing at a temperature that wouldn't burn, and then keep them from clogging the hose that he had used to evenly coat Dick. "You have to admit that was just creative."

Nightwing throws his head back and laughs. "Yeah, it was, but it still sucked. So, about that talk that you keep saying we're going to have but we never do?"

Tim sighs as he leans against the wall of the alley. "Look, we'll talk when I get back, okay?"

"Promise?"

Dick sounds really damn hopeful, and Tim really wants to say no just to distract him enough that he can get away, but dealing with a hurt Dick isn't going to improve Tim's night any, so he just nods instead. "Yeah, okay."

Dick grabs Tim's hand and gives it a squeeze, but before either of them can leave, there's another person in the alley. Tim pulls his hand away, and flips Sandy's shoulder length light brown hair over his shoulder. "Sorry, hun, but you've gotta earn the touch."

Nightwing looks like he wants to die of laughter, and Tim is extremely surprised that Dick's voice is moderately level when he speaks. "My apologies, miss. Do you want me to walk you home?"

Tim's looking past Nightwing, and he can tell by the way that the person is staggering that it's due to injury more than drunkenness. He sees a glimpse of the guy's face in the light from the streetlamp, and recognizes him from the bar. Tim's not really sure how to play this in order to keep his cover. The guy doesn't seem to be extremely interested in their conversation, but Tim knows that doesn't mean anything. Sandy backs away slightly. "Yeah, right. You'd probably take me to your boss...not that I've got anything useful ta say. I told ya. I don't know nothin about nothin."

Nightwing steps closer. "I don't think I believe you."

Sandy blows out a breath and Tim tries to look as unimposing as possible for the guy at the mouth of the alley. "I told ya already. I was in the bar, and everything just went crazy. My boyfriend fled, and I was left all alone. I was so scared that I ran the moment that I could."

Nightwing takes a moment to make it obvious to anyone within ten feet that he's looking Sandy over. "I'm so sick of running into you girls. You all tend to be so useless."

Nightwing doesn't give Sandy a chance to respond before he shoots off a line and is out of the alley, which is good, because Tim isn't sure how Sandy would respond to that. It worked well for his cover though; certainly no one is going to think that Sandy and Nightwing are on any type of good terms here. Sandy cautiously walks out of the alley, and Tim takes all the time that he needs to assess the guy leaning up against the alley wall for support. Tim's reasonably sure by the way that the guy's clutching his head, and the obvious heel shaped bruise on the guy's temple that he's not hearing much of anything right now besides the ringing in his ears. The guy slumps down to the ground and passes out again. Tim drags him into the light, calls the cops with the guy's cell phone, and leaves.

When he gets back to the cave, Tim is actually surprised that he manages to get the heels, wig, brown contact lenses, and fake nails off before Dick shows up. Before Dick can say anything, Tim heads him off. "Look, I'm taking a shower before this conversation can even begin, so you might as well go work on your reports or something." Tim doesn't give Dick a chance to respond before heading off in the direction of the showers. He isn't even really sure that there is anything to discuss. Bruce came back and Dick returned to his Nightwing identity. Tim chooses to just skip over that whole crazy more than one Batman moment that their family had for a while there. Damian is still Robin and Tim is still Red Robin, everyone's happy and pretends to get along. Tim doesn't see any reason for a discussion here.

Tim will never understand why Dick feels the need for everyone to talk everything out. It's not like Tim is allowing himself to feel any emotions past 'Bruce is back...good' and 'Running around Gotham is good.' He promised himself that he was going to stay positive, so Tim just spends a lot of time not thinking about…well, a lot of things. He takes as long as he reasonably can in the shower, which is actually quite a lot of time considering that Sandy wears waterproof foundation, and Tim has a lot of scars that need to be covered. When he finally emerges from the shower, Tim is half hoping that Dick got impatient and left, but he knows better than that--which isn't to say that Tim is surprised to find Dick working out on the uneven bars.

Tim walks over, sits down on the mats, and stretches. He's wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a red t-shirt, because he was hoping to get a work out in before his lovely conversation with Dick made that impossible. Besides the bar fight, Tim didn't actually get that much done tonight, which leaves him with plenty of energy to work off. He moves over to the free weights as he hears Dick jump down from the bar. "So, little brother, what's up?"

Tim shrugs as he grabs the dumbbells. "You're the one who wanted to talk, so talk…"

Dick takes a breath and lets it out slowly before speaking. "I'm moving back to New York."

"I know." Tim's response is quick and short, and he knows that Dick is going to have a problem with the tone, but it's safe to say that Tim hadn't actually expected this conversation to start with obvious information that isn't exactly relevant to anything.

"What? What do you mean you know?"

Tim laughs slightly at Dick's shocked tone as he continues with his reps. Tim doesn't know why Dick's surprised that he knew; even if it wasn't an obvious choice for Dick to make, Tim still would have known before Dick told him. After all, it's not like Dick even tried to hide the paper trail. "It's you, Dick. You weren't going to stick around forever, especially now that Bruce is back. No one was foolish enough to believe that you would."

Dick flips into a headstand, and begins pacing back and forth in front of Tim. "You know, there's no reason you couldn't come with me."

Tim nearly drops one of the dumbbells at that. He had never actually expected Dick to say anything even remotely close to that. "I…what?"

Dick flips back onto his feet. "I'm serious, Timmy. There's no reason that you couldn't come to New York with me. We could hang out, watch movies, and eat pizza."

Tim shakes his head as he sets both dumbbells down. He has a feeling that he's going to need both hands free for this conversation. "I assure you that if you want my help moving, you really don't have to bribe me, nor is the bribery necessary to get me to come visit you."

Dick sighs as he rolls his eyes. "I don't just mean as a visit, Tim."

Tim's eyebrows rise before he can control his facial expression. "What do you mean then?"

"Come on, Timmy. Gotham has enough protectors, and you're not Robin anymore, so B can't actually be pissed at you for branching out, and…"

Tim holds up a hand to stop whatever pre-thought-out rant Dick had planned here. "And you want me to move to New York with you?" At Dick's nod, Tim continues. "What in the world would make you think that that would be a good idea?"

Dick shrugs, and looks like a very small child. "Well, it'd get you away from D, which I think would make you more comfortable."

Tim folds his arms over his chest. "And what makes you think that I'm uncomfortable?"

Dick looks outraged at the notion that Tim is completely content with the way that everything is, which is just ridiculous, in Tim's opinion. He promised Bruce that he was completely fine with Damian being Robin, and Tim had worked hard to come to terms with that enough that he didn't want to scream every time that he saw the kid. "How can you possibly be comfortable, Tim? I mean, when Jason replaced me, I didn't live with him."

Tim shakes his head at him, and doesn't mention the fact that Dick is the one who replaced him with Damian, because there's really no reason to dredge all of that up. "I'm not you, Dick. I'm over being replaced by now, don't you think?"

Dick shrugs again. "I don't know, Tim. I'll admit that you certainly seem better than before, but…"

"But what, Dick? I'm fine. I'm over it. Let it go. I have."

Dick folds his arms over his chest and glares at Tim. "Have you really, or are you just avoiding everything?"

Tim can't keep himself from rolling his eyes. No one else seems to have a problem with the way that Tim has been working lately. No one else seems to be arguing with any of it. "Why can't you just let this go? Why does there always need to be a problem? If I'm completely emotionless, you aren't happy. If I'm fine, you aren't happy. If I accept that Damian is Robin and move on, you still aren't happy. What is it going to take, Dick? What do I have to do to get you to drop this?"

Dick stares at him sadly for a moment. "I'm only asking you to be yourself, Tim. I'm only asking you to be real for once."

Tim wants to look down, look away, but he settles for simply shaking his head ruefully. "Well, that's going to have to wait, because right now I've got a lot of work to do before I can put Sandy away for a while."

Dick glares at him for a moment. "You know that isn't what I meant."

Tim rolls his eyes. He just wants to finish his damn workout, and then get to bed. "Yeah, yeah, don't you have packing to do?"

Dick folds his arms over his chest and just stares at Tim. "You know, I had no intention of leaving until you were done with this undercover assignment."

Tim rolls his eyes again. "Yes, I know. You just can't stand the thought of missing an opportunity to mock me. Well, that doesn't take away from the fact that I do actually still need to write up my report, and…"

Dick interrupts him before Tim can finish his list of tasks. "Hey, I didn't even mock your extremely short dress tonight."

Tim laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Not mocking me because you never really got a chance to really isn't the same thing as not mocking me because you didn't want to, Dick."

Dick holds up his hands in the air defensively. "It's not my fault that you distinctly lack people who mess with you."

Tim really wants to roll his eyes again, but settles for just folding his arms over his chest again. "Oh, yes, I can't imagine why I wouldn't want more people like you in my life, Dick. I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure the world can only handle one Dick Grayson…or at least I can only handle one of you."

Tim knows that Dick wants to respond to that…really wants to…probably with some equally snarky remark, but instead Dick just shakes his head ruefully. "Look, Tim, it's late. Why don't you think about my offer and we'll discuss it more in the morning, okay?"

Tim wants to argue with that…a lot, but he also wants to end this conversation more, so he nods as he watches Dick walk away. They won't talk more in the morning, especially if Damian and Bruce are around. In fact, Tim fully expects to wake up, only to find Dick acting as though tonight's conversation never happened. The only problem with that is that Tim isn't sure that he isn't completely okay with that. He doesn't know if he can leave Gotham, even though all of Dick's arguments were valid. She does have enough protectors, as Dick pointed out, so essentially Gotham doesn't really need him. The problem is, Tim isn't sure that he doesn't need Gotham. Besides, New York has Nightwing, and Nightwing has made it perfectly clear that he works alone…except for when he doesn't.

Tim doesn't want to admit that he's been feeling as though he doesn't have a place here for quite some time. It's part of the reason why he had no problem taking the Sandy mission. It gave him a lot of alone time, which was great…right up until it wasn't. He doesn't think that Dick actually meant to bring this all to the forefront, but that doesn't change the fact that he did. Tim's reasonably sure that Dick expected that little talk to go an entirely different way, but Tim can't help but feel as though going to New York would not only prove that Gotham doesn't need him, but that his family doesn't need him. It isn't really even anyone's fault that he's feeling that way either. Tim knows that they all have their own separate problems with communication and everything, but this little bombshell was really the last thing that he needed tonight.

Tim decides to leave the weight training for the night. After his conversation with Dick, Tim really needs to run, but more importantly, he really needs to be somewhere other than the manor, because running into anyone else right now just isn't going to work for him. Tim leaves before he can talk himself out of it. He isn't sure where he's going, but running is good. It puts everything into focus, and lets him just get away for a bit. He's enjoying the cool night air. It doesn't matter that other people would consider this a frigid night. It works for him.

Tim will stop running the moment that he can think about Dick's offer without wanting to vomit. He doesn't need anyone to tell him that this shouldn't be that big of a deal, but he's done a hell of a lot in order to be okay with everything around him, even if he knows that he's not okay with any of it, which would explain Dick's reasoning for the offer to begin with. Unfortunately for Tim, knowing all of that doesn't actually help with his current predicament, and maybe that's due more to the fact that Tim isn't even sure what his current predicament is right now. He knows that he has a choice to make, but it wasn't a choice that he foresaw having, which is making everything even more difficult. It's far easier for Tim to make decisions when he can at least see the options coming towards him, but this pretty much came out of nowhere.

Now Tim's stuck dealing with the fact that he probably should have seen this coming. He does, however, have the smallest amount of relief of knowing that he doesn't actually have to make a decision or deal with any of this until after he's done with his current assignment and Sandy isn't needed anymore. Tim almost wants to laugh at the thought, given that, from the moment that he started this undercover assignment, he wanted nothing more than to end it as quickly as possible. Now, however, he kind of wants to draw it out more…give himself more time. Tim does smile to himself after that, because leave it to Dick to give Tim a reason to want to prolong an undercover assignment. Hell, Tim may even start enjoying his time as Sandy, if it means that he doesn't have to focus on anything else, and that's even funnier to him, because Tim never thought that he would ever actually enjoy spending time playing dress up as a girl.

The End


End file.
